Snowfall
by padme789
Summary: A car skids over a bridge on I-78 pulling Quinn and Rachel together in the most unexpected of ways. Bringing on sixteen years and two months of blissful heartache, love, stress, and tears. Until Rachel is ripped from Quinn's protective love-filled grasp. AU, Vampires, Little!Rachel, Faberry, Brittana, Faberrittana. M for later chapters. Chapter 3 is up!
1. prologue

_A/N (longest note hopefully): This' based loosely off of a role play over the computer between close friend and myself from years ago._

_If you take a time to glance through this you may be thinking "Vampires…hm..." Well for this fic vampires are more like the icing on the cake. It's a focus and a major plot device, but McKenley High School's still the same high school. I have no plans on directly including werewolves and-what-not, but I'll mention their existence. There will be Vampire Hunters, though._

_I love gothic horror, I grew up on Buffy (I was 11 when it came out and I would sneak watching the show…good-times…good-times) I read Vampire Diaries a decade before show existed, saw Interview with the Vampire when I was in 4__th__ grade…read Dracula when was in middle school…obsessed over Underworld…you get where I'm going…I love a more contemporary – traditional style for my vampires, and that's what will be happening with story. (I won't knock Twilight…I may poke fun a bit but I won't be using that 'style' of vampire for this story) _

_Before I make a complete and total final decision on if this will be written 'chronologically' or if it will be in a sort of flashback form I was curious of what you all will want to see in structure. Basically, it will after prologue in a liner timeline format or it will start with Rachel as a teenager and flashback/daydreams/dreams will showcase happened between Brittany, Quinn, Rachel and Santana before Rachel became 15/16 years old. Quinn, Brittany, and Santana all suffered some sort of tragedy. _

_(Death time frame)_

_Brittany- 1930s Great Depression-Dust Bowl Era_

_Quinn- 1900-1905 Revolution of 1905 (Russia)_

_Rachel- Present Day 'Glee' more like around season 1-2_

_Santana- 1964 American Civil Rights Movement_

_READ, REVIEW and ENJOY! I live on constructive criticism, it makes me want to do better and cater even more towards my readers. _

**Title: Snowfall**

**Rating: **M – language, strong sexual themes, drug and alcohol use, gore, and "character death"

**Word Count: **1,905

**Pairings (in no order): **Faberry, Brittana, Tike, Klaine, Finchel (very brief)

**Friendships: **Quick, Puckleberry, Pezberry, more

Five thousand, eight hundred, and forty days filled of blissful heartache, love, stress, and tears. Lucy Quinn Fabray convulsed with unbridled emotion. Her existence unnecessary, null-and-void, useless without the young girl she clung to.

Without Rachel Barbra Berry, she was lost.

**Prologue:**

Contrary to popular belief as time progresses their bodies do age. If you were to ask, or even state this to the three young women who sped along the I-78 highway, ten miles outside of Newark. Thirty-minutes into the six-hour car ride from New York City to Pittsburgh, inside their new smoke grey Camaro. Each would give you their askew point on the matter, always starting with: 'Do we in fact age?' Then the younger two of the three would default their views into agreeing with the one who has in fact 'aged' the longest, and Quinn—Lucy Quinn Fabray would answer.

"Do we age? Of course we age, but I, myself, have become fairly younger throughout my years."

The blonde who called herself Quinn, however known by most as Lucy, and was called a variety of names by close friends. Never completely divulge her knowledge because she knew just enough, just enough to sate her own sanity in the matter.

Aging physically was unnoticeable. Aging through appearance had become one of the top ways that allowed Quinn, Brittany, and Santana to survive among other ways, of course.

A squeal of tires and the crush of metal broke through the rifts of Pearl Jam's Better Man, as it played for the three friends from the radio.

Quinn lifted her head from the pages of her book. She narrowed her eyes, the black-ice must be worse than the report stated the hour before the left, and glanced the road ahead through the opening between Brittany and Santana who sat together at the front. Had she originally suggested to drive as planned, Quinn would be alone in the front while Brittany and Santana did god knows in the back here, it was the better choice, the more content choice, and Santana did enjoy driving their new car. Brittany said it had to do with how Santana's father never allowed her to driven—even though she knew how—because it was still safer for her brother to drive. Brittany also, said that Santana knew her father was right.

The blonde fingered the spine of the book allowing the power vocals of Eddie Vedder to swirl into the depths of her conscious. The cries louder than any dog whistle beat her ear drums. Then gone, non-existent.

"St—stop…stop the car!"

"What, you can't be serious. You were the one who wanted to hit Pittsburgh before nightfall." Santana huffed eyes never leaving the road, her figures gripping tighter to the steering wheel. "And after that forecast from this morning about black-ice on the highway, stopping," Santana pulled the car a hair over to the right as a large red truck, the first car they had seen on the road since the start of the travels, swerved to avoid a patch of ice. "isn't an option."

Brittany, her focus on snow-covered landscape which sped by circled over to Quinn. She bobbed her head agreeing with Santana's statement. "It's not safe…well for the car at least, and I don't want to have to walk the whole way. Last time we did that, we looked homeless—I don't want to look homeless again, Quinn…"

"I know—I know, Brittany." She gripped the Brittany's right shoulder the best she could, this car's front seats almost grazed the plastic side-panel. Quinn followed the stitching within the leather interior eyes connecting with Santana through the rear-view mirror. "I don't want you to ever feel homeless again either." Wavering as the Latina pressed her foot against the accelerator the engine purred.

"Stop!"

The car skid several inches turning into several feet forward.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill us?" Santana steadied the wheel applied a feather-light touch to the break then rolled across the passanger-side white line. The Latina forced the Camaro to a stop, first placing it in park before pulling the emergency break. "You know what; we wouldn't even be in this mess if you could just make your—mind…" Plastic bracelets clanking together as a Chanel vamp-colored nail polished finger pressed against Santana's lips.

"Honey, I hear it too. Shut off the car." Brittany, the leaner, taller, and more sympathetic of the three spoke.

"I don—no, Britt, she said she was better…you said she was better…" Santana ignored the hazel glare from the back. Quinn may be her senior, but that respect was earned. In the eyes of the fiery-young-Latina she had barely even made the cut, and that was only because without her melt down she and Brittany would have never met. She pressed her forehead against the blonde in the front passenger now lost in eyes of ice-blue.

She called her ridiculous. Quinn tolerated the new member to their pair, or was she the new member? No, no Santana would always be the third member never the other way around. Quinn was always the first, if it hadn't been for her Brittany would not be here, and in return neither would Santana. So, yes, Quinn would always be the first. She surmised placing the constant lingering doubt of loyalty from her longest friend at bay. Now she needed to find the source of that noise.

"It's louder…I think…just a little," absently theorized Brittany while she sat staying out into the landscape. Quinn pressed her kneed into the center-back of Brittany's seat. She took the hint, and opened the door stepping out to pull it forward allowing Quinn to leave the car.

Santana, unused to the unquestioned loyalty between the two pulled the keys from the ignition and deposited them into her leather jackets front pocket. Twenty-two year it was just the two of them her and Brittany then five years ago Quinn showed up, ringing their Soho apartment, asking for Brittany to allow her back into her life.

She did, the blonde embraced Quinn, never leaving her side taking every word of her 'adventures' to heart. Brittany forgave the young woman, who rescued her from pain, but Santana did not. As far as Santana was concerned, Quinn only brought on a new form of sorrow to Brittany.

All three could hear up to a mile maybe two if they really concentrated. Quinn concentrated. Again the pitch equaled the highest sequence from a dog whistle except this time it wavered. The source, what-ever it was, was seemed to be dying out.

"Over here," yelled out Santana, she had sauntered in the direction of the road bridge's railing. The metal rail spit curling from either side. "It's just the engine of a car, from an accident, and the emergency box it what, a mile up that way." Santana, pointed west. "No, one reported I bet," she continued accompanied now by Quinn and Brittany. "See, I told you I'm not the most heartless thing on the planet."

Holding the curled rail, Quinn leaned forward. "It's coming from in there."

Santana huffed, "I just said that…seriously…"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "No, it's not the car. Listen, suppress the surrounding noise, and listen." She pointed in the direction of the four-door sedan. "That was the...crash—wait, wait—that was the car that past us about fifteen minutes back." The cry sounded, softer monotone…dying...

Brittany and Santana followed Quinn's suggestion, suppressing the surrounding wind, ignoring the ruble of the road from the cars soon to pass. The cry, both heard the cry. Maybe, Quinn wasn't as wacked-out as she thought. Just—what did Brittany call it—alone, maybe Quinn really was alone no matter who was with her.

"Quinn—Quinn," both questioned together in a frank neither seeing Quinn jump from the bridge onto the dirt hill fifteen feet below.

Arms out stretched, legs bent from the impact with the earth. In better shoes Quinn may be mistaken for a cat as she honed in on her inner grace. "Black-ice…" she mumbled taking in the car's impact damage. The sedan's crush with the ground shortened its hood by a third. Airbags were displayed, and most-likely the cause of death for both men in the driver and passenger seat.

"Did they suffer…" whispered Brittany, now beside Quinn. Santana, ignoring the cautious blondes, walked to the car observing the outer damage. The careful-slow-nature both blondes applied to car and planes always amused the Latina.

"No, their next snapped either from impact or the airbags, I don't know," reassured Quinn.

Glass broke, metal hedges popped with a car door flying a few feet beneath the bridge. "Shit,shit—sh—shit! I…um…a little help? I think I found the noise yo—Jesus, I'm never going to get used to that."

Brittany gasped.

Quinn shoved her way through, a car-seat covered in blankets. She retracted the plastic handle leant forward. Hands outright, made contact with the mass, tips of her fingers felt no movement. Left knee atop the leather seat, she lowered the blanket covering the child's face, it's head covered with a woolen hat. Quinn traced her right index and middle finger across the forehead and down the cheek of the infant.

"Is it—he—she…" Santana noticed pink explosion in the back. "She—is she alright? Quinn, say something."

"Quinn, please—please say something…"

Quinn brushed her fingers against the infant again. "Santana, go start the car, this thing's too put in the back. We'll have to put it in the trunk. Brittany and I can trade off holding her in the car." She traced the chubby cheek, puckered lips barely created movement, but movement nonetheless. "She isn't cold and her skin isn't red yet. If we can warm her up, she should be okay."

No one moved.

"Did you not hear me Santana? I said start the car! She need to be exposed to warmth," growled Quinn, a shone-glare on her companions. "Go! Brittany, there's a bag on the other side of the car, we need that."

Brittany nodded as she watched Santana ready to protest. "Not now, honey…," she spoke barely at a whisper.

Quinn heard the huff escape her lips at each tromped step up the steep hill in the direction of their parked car. "They should have never left to go wherever they were going, in this weather with a little one like you on board, huh?" She unclasped the infant from her car seat. Brittany unbelted the seat and pull the seat from the opposite side of the car as Quinn held onto the girl. "But, it will be okay, we are going to get you warm, and then maybe you'll want to eat. I beat you want to eat."

Oldest of the three companions, unzipped her jacket hiding the child within its confines as best she could, her fingers running along an embroidered stitch. Quinn pulled it free to wrap around the child's head.

"I think this' everything. The bag had some papers in it. We can look at them in the car," Brittany said as she snuck a peek at the infant girl. She smiled, her warm smile, and Quinn knew Brittany knew why she had to do this.

Quinn nodded, wrapping the blanket one last time, embroidery stitch in view. "Least we know one thing about you, little-one, you have a very pretty name."

"Rachel."

_**I hope you enjoyed, please review and let me know what you think.**_


	2. Chapter 1

_A/N: I plan to explain ifs, hows, whats, with my ideas as the story progresses. I don't want to give way too much right off._

_But I will explain one thing (this is where the whole contemporary-traditional type of vampire comes into play), sun light does harm vampires in this story. As the chapters come and the story progresses, you'll notice Quinn, Brittany, and Santana never go into DIRECT sunlight by choice. "Blood's" the key for this (I thought about jewelry, but I found it over used so I'm going a more science/fantasy route) if they drink human blood they're able to be a part of society without anyone noticing, if they drink animal blood their immune system's not as high let's say, and so-on. It will be explained better later on. _

_This chapter's meant to setup Quinn and Rachel's relationship they have now._

_Should I introduce a young Rachel and that Rachel's relationship with Quinn, Brittany, and Santana in the next chapter?_

_READ, REVIEW and ENJOY! I live on constructive criticism, it makes me want to do better and cater even more towards my readers. _

**Title: Snowfall**

**Rating: **M – language, strong sexual themes, drug and alcohol use, gore, and "character death"

**Word Count: **2,189

**Pairings (in no order): **Faberry, Brittana, Tike, Klaine, Finchel (very brief)

**Friendships: **Quick, Puckleberry, Pezberry, more

**Chapter 1:**

She found a simple wet-nap did wonders for removing the artificial colored ice absorbed into the skin for the face. It caused minimal damage to one's makeup, and didn't sting like the dispensing soap against the wall. The brunette who wore heavy-stitched two-tone color sweaters tossed her third nap soaked in red food coloring.

The cold assault was instigated by a member of the football team. A new recruit, freshman, only completing the unspoken criteria applied to new varsity players. She overheard a pair of football players discussing 'a list' of ten students around the school. Each day of the week two of the ten new members—a lot of the football team were graduating this year—were told to slushy at least five students found the list. Each new player was assigned a slushy color, red or blue, and at the end of the day each player tallied their 'kills' and received their final point number. What they got out of it was beyond her, and from the look of her attackers face there was no point to this aside from humiliating those found on the 'scum-list'.

She took full responsibility for the way others treated her. Well, not really, she was responsible for allowing the student-body to place her at the lower end of the school social-hierarchy. At this school, no matter how hard she tried if one person form any of the sports teams that mattered disliked you, you were pegged for the next four years as a, loser.

However, for her it started earlier than most every night during her—eight grade year—at the supper Brittany Peirce rarely ate would ask Rachel Berry the same question.

"Are you sure you don't want my help, Rach?"

Rachel would reply with the same assortment of answers. She was five when she discovered Brittany worked best with a simple verity of answers. Santana of course helped, whispering that bit of advice in her small ear as the tall blonde's focused on the preparation of her dinner: broccoli, carrots, potatoes, and roasted chicken. It wouldn't be for a number of years that Rachel ever considered the idea of becoming vegetarian; no clue of what a vegan would be until the summer before her freshman year of high school.

She loved Brittany therefore her answers to this nightly question would always consist of. "Yes, Brittany, but I appreciate the thought. I'll be okay, they're just words."

Naturally the then thirteen-year-old, who knew the older blonde could hear, would cry every night against her pillow. Brittany never pried.

"Who was it?"

"No one," responded Rachel without thought.

"So, that slushy just lifted into the air and launched itself at you?"

She shrugged. "It could happen. You told me so after we met that friend of Brittany's in San Francisco the summer before we moved 'back' to Chicago, and I started my second-grade year." Rachel zipped the blue duffle up, hiding the severity lunch-time slushy attack before swerving to leave for her sixth-period.

Perfect, slender, manicured hands held either shoulder forcing Rachel to make contact with hazel eyes. She looked away. Pressure from her shoulder gone, once the hand rested against her cheek its index finger and thumb brushing back a loose bang.

"You, Brittany, and Santana cannot always be around every corner to protect me. That's what you told to me before Brittany, Santana, and I moved here when I was thirteen. You three came up with the most elaborate setup. That I know of, anyway, to give me a normal high-school life…"

"I couldn't come, not until I convinced my cover. Brittany's niece's family was looking for a small town to move too…Santana's sister was already here…Lima's the safest place for right now."

Quinn pulled Rachel into her arms. "When I said we couldn't always protect you I never meant you had to endure this day-after-day," she whispered. Rachel could hear the hurt in the blonde who wore the red, white, and black cheerleading uniform and high pony.

Rachel bit her lip. "What's done is done. Maybe tomorrow Quinn…" She forced herself from the embrace exiting the bathroom.

"Rachel…"

…

Lockers, outside the door to the boy's locker-room, clanked as flesh met metal over-and-over again. Quinn held tight, her finger nails digging into flesh centimeters from the jugular. Now seconds away from rupturing the vein. She always wondered what would happen to a vampire who lost all the blood alive or dead which circulated through their body.

"That's your idea of keeping an eye on her?"

Quinn pressed harder dark blood trailed along her fingers. Close twenty years without any form of direct violence towards a human being or another of her kind. But, ever since that day in freezing snow under a bridge of I-78 Rachel Barbra Berry would be the acceptation.

"You gave me your word…Puckerman…you said you would make sure the football team would minimize the slushies on Rachel."

The 'teenage boy' who's head pressed painfully close against the lockers eyed his old friend unable to speak as he felt the sharp nails of the woman dig-in closer and closer to his voice box. With what strength he had he shoved her forward hand pressed against his bleeding neck. Fingers substituting a proper truncate. The wound would only last no more than an hour after all. No, no he needed to convince the 'teenage girl' to surpass her anger not only to keep the school population safe, but his own head intact and atop his body.

"I repeat, that was your idea of keeping her safe. We had a deal! I would help protect your family, if you helped to protect mine!"

"It was just one time today. I'd say that was a nice number for today. Considering how much the majority of the football team enjoys watching her and the other dweebs of the school shutter under the cold ice."

"We aren't talking about them," stated Quinn through gritted teeth fangs began to retract unable to control her anger.

Puck gripped the blonde's arm. "I'm doing the best I can. I can't just follow her around the school twenty-four-seven. Look at me, she's okay. She's handling it better than any of us could that's for sure."

Quinn glowered turning her attention to the diva in question as she began to write her name an empty space for the Glee Club signup sheets. "You're joining that club."

"What, no. You join."

"I can't join, Sylvester would kill me," Quinn huffed lips twitching at the irony of her statement. "You're joining that club to keep your end of the bargine do you understand me?"

"Fine…fine…but if I start lose any of my street-cred I'll find a way to make you join," reluctantly agreed Puck. He loved the woman who stood before him hand dripping with his blood, he respected her more than he had ever respected a woman, and now she had him strolling towards a signup sheet to the one club of the school said to suck away one's popularity the way the grim reaper sucked away your soul.

...

"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one-hundred." Rachel set the wooden-handled nylon paddle brush atop the white vanity. A quick fluff at the ends with both hands she observed her complexion surveying for pores.

The door crushed its way across the bedroom's carpeted floor. Brittany strolled in. The tall blonde-dancer exchanged her daily wardrobe of matching black, red, and white polyester cheerleading uniform for a pair of tight-fit dark denim skinny jeans. A blast of warm summer air crept its way through to this September night. Consequently, Brittany opted for a simple breathing, not that it mattered, satin and silk moss-green slip, and dark brown bomber jacket.

Brittany mentioned earlier in the evening as she and Rachel sat at the dining room table with the young boy and girl Brittany claimed to be her younger siblings while Rachel paraded around und the guise of 'cousin'. Though, the reality, both blonde girl and boy were Brittany's second-niece and nephew.

"Santana suggested an out-of-state trip for tonight. Quinn agreed so we'll be in Fort Wayne."

"It make since, it's out-of-state, but not very far. You won't be late for Cheerios practice. The likely-hood of someone recognizing you is very slim. It's a very logical plan."

The blonde fell back her rear resting against the edge of Rachel's bed closest to the vanity mirror. "When did you start wearing that to sleep," Brittany asked gesturing to the aroma sleeping mask.

Rachel lifted the mask in question its elastic band crimping her hair. "Around the time we—I thought you left," she began to answer before changing the subject.

If Brittany knew of the quick subject change she never acknowledged the change. Growing up Rachel realized this 'lack of observant knowledge' to be Brittany's strongest trait. Claiming to be blissfully unaware of the world around kept you always one step ahead of your foes. "Santana should be here soon. Quinn—Quinn will be meeting us. I'm thinking at the border."

"Brittany, Santana just pulled up!" It was the voice of Mindy, Brittany's Niece, from the kitchen.

A large smile formed with Brittany's lips. "I'll be right there!" She leapt from her perch. "Not that Santana would forget, especially Quinn, but I have my phone. I'll see you when you wake-up or when you're at school in the morning."

"I know, Brittany, I know. You all have your cell-phones. Call if anything happens, if it's an emergency go start to the hospital and you will figure out once you realize something's off. I know, I've heard this since I was eleven and you let stay at home alone." Rachel grinned, she loved this teenager girl—young woman—vampire more than she could ever show.

Brittany pulled Rachel into a tight hug, and gave a quick kiss to her forehead. It's the same goodbye-goodnight ritual given to the petite brunette by the ditzy blonde for as long as she can remember.

"Night Rach."

"Good night, Brittany."

Flicked the over head lights to Rachel's room off leaving the bedside lamp and its poorly lit bulb to light the bedroom and the fifteen-year-old who relocated to the bed and sat atop her side. Always the same nightly ritual Rachel decided she would have it no other way then pulled back the bed comforter.

Her thoughts drifted her memories of lunch playing benefit shut lids. Ever since the start of this school year she felt a shift in her relationship with Quinn. Barely a year apart felt like a life time to the petite teenager who spent day-after-day with the blonde whose eyes radiated hazel when fresh live blood circulated her veins. Whatever this change with Quinn she would have to figure it out, and figure it out soon.

"I'm sorry."

Rachel's lids flashed open. "Shouldn't you be meeting Brittany and Santana?"

"They can wait fifteen-twenty minutes—I'm sorry Rachel, for earlier today. I over stepped the boundaries we placed."

"You placed," corrected Rachel her back to her new guest.

"I placed…I—I need to make she we were okay. Feeding can wait until we're okay."

Rachel felt the bed dip as Quinn sat atop her side's edge. She then shimmy closer to the middle a non-verbal invite to join her in bed. Quinn laid atop the pillows one leg hidden within the comforter the other dangled resting her shoe against the carpeted floor.

"I'm not mad…never with you Quinn…never with you...," trailed Rachel before pausing mentally assessing her question. "When was your last feeding?"

"A few weeks," she answered, before rotating her body.

Skin touched skin sending a slight chill through Rachel. Quinn pulled her body closer. Manicured figures brushed through soft waves of dark hair. "You won't—you aren't pushing it? When was the last time you…," Rachel asked as sleep took hold of the diva's voice.

"No—never, not like last time. Never again…"

"Stay until I fall asleep."

"Always."

Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's warm body resting a right ear against the girl's back listening to heart steady the flow of blood within her body beat by slow beat.

"I joined Glee club today," spoke Rachel her voice thick with sleep.

The head Cheerio smiled, sure the brunette could feel the gesture. "I know, I saw you sticking a gold star next your night on Mr. Shuester's signup sheet.

"You're not mad? Santana says the club is social suicide."

"Santana says a lot of things, and no I'm not mad. You should do what makes you happy. Always do what makes you happy…little-one, never let anyone tell you otherwise Not me, not Santana."

"And Brittany," asked Rachel again she felt Quinn's smile between her shoulder blades on her upper back.

"Are you kidding? She wants to join, singing and dancing the woman would be in heaven."

Quinn waited a minute that turned into two and two turned into three. The blonde who wore a fitted shirt and denim jeans rested her right ear against the back of the brunette one-last-time. Steady even breaths accompanied the steady even flow of blood.

Rachel was asleep.

_**I hope you enjoyed, please review and let me know what you think.**_


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N: Here's how I'm indicating flashback and scene change. … are for scene progression xxx is flashback._

_There will be a bit of Finchel in the story, Santana, Quinn, and Brittany will all voice and handle it in their own way. For those wondering, Finn's not setup as an antagonist in this. He'll be more of a pawn. A 'simple human' thrown into the mix is the plan for Finn. Wrong place wrong time, but still super insecure, childish, and have a notion of entitlement. _

_Faberry'll have a bit of a complicated relationship for a while. Neither willing to give into their feelings b/c of the bond they have had since they found and raised Rachel._

_I know there are readers out there who like musical suggestions or lyrics that represent a chapter. I haven't really been focusing on that for this story. However, I have been listening to The Virgin Suicide score by AIR when outline the chapters. So by all means unless I start listening to this think of that album as the style of 'background music' for this story. I decided to include a setting the scene portion at the beginning from now on as well._

'_Clouds', 'Playground love', & 'Highschool Lover' being this chapter's musical focus._

_What relationship if any should Sue have with Quinn, Brittany, Rachel, and Santana?_

_A/N: I just edited this a bit better. When I did my read through last night, I was more tired that I thought._

_READ, REVIEW and ENJOY! I live on constructive criticism, it makes me want to do better and cater even more towards my readers. _

**Title: Snowfall**

**Rating: **M – language, strong sexual themes, drug and alcohol use, gore, and "character death"

**Word Count: **2,519

**Pairings (in no order): **Faberry, Brittana, Tike, Klaine, Finchel (very brief)

**Friendships: **Quick, Puckleberry, Pezberry, more

**Chapter Focus:** Rachel and Quinn

**Setting the Scene:** Rachel (still asleep) now dreaming of a content less complicated time in her life. Unaware that Quinn never left her side.

**Chapter 2:**

A white plastic alarm-clock's digital crystallized diamonds flickered. These minutes mocked Quinn, head cheerio – HBIC, a woman closing on her hundredth 'birthday'. Her body spooned Rachel no longer a large protective barricade against the outside the world for the diva. Now the complex mind games and emotional entanglements of social popularity kept Quinn from providing the 'protection' she knew Rachel deserved.

Phone's phone lay ignored atop the mattress vibrations inching the phone closer and closer to the edge. She replayed to the first, ignored the reply this new message illumining the dark room.

_Fine, whatever—just don't come crying & complaining to us when you're all groggy & feel like you just vegged-out on 6 bags of family-sized potato chips after drinkin' down that transfusion crap. You hug the shit outta that girl & Brittany sends her love. – Santana_

Quinn laced fingers, recently manicured with French-tips, through Rachel's full waves grazing the teen's scalp. Rewarded with a simple whimper, she did it again. Rachel pushed back bringing her body impossibly close to Quinn. She rewarded the girl by pressing her forehead, cooling from lack of fresh blood, between the shoulder blades of her hot upper-back.

xxx

Crisp page turn from a new book broke the bedroom's quiet. Quinn loved that sound. These times were few and far between, a rare moment when the vampire didn't care about her appearance. Her hair held back with a loose band, oversized tortoiseshell glasses magnified her hazel eyes. Santana nicknamed her Venus, after a Venus Fly Trap, beautiful and deadly. She pulled the highlighter from its cap with her teeth. This would be the start of her third degree. Her first technically associates-style degree a secretarial area of study, she doesn't enjoy discussing that time frame of 'higher education'. Her third degree would be given to her in Economics. Quinn lifted the thick textbook which rested atop her large bed, and placed it against her legs.

Santana agreed to watch the newest addition to their makeshift family during her midterm exam, at Vassar, granted it took Quinn calling, reserving, and spending from her own pocket a night's stay in the best room at the most luxurious hotel in town for Brittany and Santana. Brittany jumped at the chance to take care of the little girl bare over a year old, but she had to work tomorrow.

This time Brittany took on the role of 'provider' while the other two were free choose whatever they wished to take-up their 'time'. Originally when Rachel became a part of their lives Quinn took the responsibly of caring for the infant. Then as time continued, as time always does, Brittany and even Santana, though she would never admit it, started to place themselves as a permanent fixture the girl's life. This freed her time. With that free time she applied to and was accepted to Vassar to study Economics.

Creaks from the aged floorboards pulled her from her academic-trance. Her room about to be invaded by a secret visitor its door inched open in silence.

Sniffle.

"Rachel," a bewildered Quinn asked shifting her neck to the left in the direction of the bedroom door. She was sure the little girl had a few more weeks. All the books said it was rare a toddler her age and size would attempt to escape her crib. That theory turned out wrong, very—very wrong.

Sniffle.

Quinn shut the textbook setting it atop her nightstand. She motioned the toddler, and watched the girl slide her feet across the floor thumb in mouth hair uncombed her face covered in red imprints caused by the blanket that trailed her from behind. Quinn scooped the girl who wore bright pink cotton-wool footy pajamas handpicked by Brittany from a Macy sale. She rose from her perch then began to pace a small five-foot invisible line. "How on earth did you get out of your crib?" She flattened the mess of tangled curls as Rachel rolled her face into the crook of the blonde's neck. Her milder body temperature often soothed the seventeen-month-old. Santana theorized 'the girl somehow figured it out' the timeframe for each woman's body temperature fluctuation from fed to un-fed.

"Oh, little-one, it's okay—it's okay. What happened?"

She grazed her nails along the cotton-wool fabric running along the small arm allowing the tiny hand to around two fingers and waves it in every direction possible. Deep-brown eyes brightened at the question only to disappear once the soft curl covered head lay atop Quinn's shoulder.

"Ark…sawey…sawey ark," she mumbled into the crook.

"I can fix that."

Quinn kissed the crown of curls gripping Rachel's rear for extra support as she began to create a barricade of pillows the left side of her large king sized bed. She set Rachel atop the bed before crawling back to her previous spot.

Rachel propelled herself up, bottom in the air, her actions imitating an excited puppy. She rushed across the bed tripping the folds of the thin blanket. Rachel fell back her diaper crunching loud against the mattress. She smiled as toothy a smile as she could before plopping her head atop a pillow. Quinn laughed resting her own head atop the pillow face turned to the little girl. Rachel grinned again inching her way over. Quinn rapped an arm around Rachel, the toddler taking too long, rested both foreheads resting against the other.

She released Bell-like-giggles as the cotton-wool pajamas tickled her skin. "Wuv Kinn. So—uch," mumbled Rachel her lids becoming heavy her fear of darkness forgotten in the protective arms of Quinn.

"I love you to little-one, so much"

xxx

_Can you spare a bag? I'll spot you double if it's cutting close. – Quinn_

"Quinn," asked the gravel-sleep-ridden voice of Rachel.

Quinn, focus on the phone transactions, never felt the petite brunette roll a prefect one-hundred and eighty degrees into her chest. Noses graze with lips inches apart. She placed her free hand in loose jumbled bangs of deep brown hair, and brushed each tangle out. Old habits die hard.

"Hey."

Rachel propped her weight on her elbow. Yawning she began rubbing the sleep from her eyes, with the other. "Have you been back long?"

"Not exactly," Quinn absently answered concentration still in the direction of her phone as a new text message flashed across.

_Nah, usual will do. Cutting it a bit close aren't we? I thought you were taking a trip for something…oh what did you call it…'a bit more fresh'? – Puck_

_Don't push your luck. Something came up. Just bring it by 3__rd__ period today– Quinn_

"Quinn—Quinn…Quinn!"

"Huh?"

Rachel glared. If she were impulsive like Santana she would yank the phone from the blonde. Nevertheless, they raised her with manner. A trait pushed by Quinn and praised by Brittany. Appreciated by Santana, but that never stopped her teasing. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, and if you would let me help you…then you wouldn't have cold drinks of slush to worry about either."

"I told you," Rachel groaned. "Don't you go changing the subject I can handle that just fine. Thank you."

"Rachel."

"We are through with this Quinn. What-ever you've been doing to 'keep me safe' hasn't worked because it still happens, and because these slushies still happen even with whatever threats you've given to Cheerios and other student body. I think it best you let me handle it all myself." Rachel gripped Quinn's two fingers, and watched her gaze focus on the simple touch and interaction. The hold having a deeper meaning with the cheerleader than the misfit teen, Rachel let go.

"But—But if you would just…we could—I wouldn't need to sneak into this house or claim I was visiting Brittany to those air-filled skulled teenagers…"

Rachel pushed herself from the bed, leaving Quinn half tangled in the warmth of a comforter she would never need. They could finish—would finish this later. Now, she needed to begin her dressing ritual for the day, seeing as she missed the time for her work out because of a blonde who occupied her every thought for the past year and three-month summer break. No, now—now was dedicated to deciding her outfits for the day. Never again would she not be prepared. Not after that horrible day freshman year when she was subjected to the lost-and-found. Rachel shivered at the thought, never again.

…

Noah Puckerman entered third period at his leisure at his usual time. Ten to fifteen minutes after the tardy bell. His right hand hidden within the confines of his letterman jacket he revealed a heavy duty flask. Fidgeting feet clanked impatiently against the school desk-table's metal legs. Rachel resisted the urge to turn around to follow his actions, and glare at the blonde who continued a clanking that now reverberated against her inner-ears. What the 'high-schooler' pulled from within his jacket for Quinn incased a thick red, sticky to the touch liquid. Rachel shivered. She loved and hated that liquid. Without it Quinn, Brittany, and Santana would've never save her.

"Nice of you to join us Mr. Puckerman," commented the woman with mouse-colored hair held back in a loose bun, her thick plastic glasses pressed uncomfortably into the bridge of her nose. Puck ignored the comment plopping into his chair. The heavy aluminum thermos clattered atop the plywood desk. "Mr. Puckerman, we have discussed this before…did you bring any for the rest of the class?"

"No Ma'am." Puck watched the mid-aged woman with twenty plus years dedicated to teaching. They made eye contact. The classroom of peers waited each taking a metal bet of who would react first.

Nothing.

Hands gripped either side of her chair. Anticipation higher than the rest, she witnessed this situation only a handful of times in her fifteen years. Brittany still the only one able to hold their choice of victim long enough to create a permanent effect. Mrs. Turnman would no doubt question her interaction with Noah again towards the close of the day as he hold would dissipate from the their lack of visual contact.

The World History teacher stepped back. Hand at her forehead. Three Cheerios watched the interaction between teacher and student. A disapproving look crossed the blondes as amusement crossed the Latina's. "Alright, Mr. Puckerman, but not again, understood? Now where was…" Mrs. Turnman trailed off. Rachel watched her teacher then the mohawked football receiver, and finally the three Cheerios. Puck would be lectured, for his open use of mental thrall. She hoped anyway. Mrs. Turnman was nice, never did anything but expect the same respect back from her students that she herself gave. Well, at least she would have lectured him if she had any say.

"I don't think, anyone would like what Quinn has to drink to stay in shape," He whispered. The boy next to him and Santana chuckled.

"You were informing us this week would be focused on the history of Russia," interjected Rachel, rolling her eyes at Puck's hushed remark.

A sudden, Quinn always hated history lessons on early European History.

"Yes—yes we will be discussing what led to the down fall of the Russian Empire and start of the Revolution of 1905," spoke Mrs. Turnman to no one.

Again the same groan from behind. Rachel smiled; she would no doubt hear the inner and irritated tirade of the blonde who groaned for a third time later that night.

"So that's a yes? Sweet," spoke a loud excited whisper.

Shock—shock the only way to describe her current sentiments. "Yes? Yes to what? I never said a yes to anything." Had the quarterback constantly referred as Jolly Green Giant, Finnocence, Tubs, Doorknob, Lumps, Frankenteen, and so many others Rachel often found herself drifting during Santana's awful nicknames unless they were directed towards Quinn.

"But, you smiled. Smiling means yes…right? All the guys say smiling means yes," stated the whisper, now frantic.

"What? Who told you that, Finn," Rachel whispered as she eyed Mrs. Turnman as she continued with her PowerPoint presentation. "I can tell you Finn, a smile does not always mean yes."

"What? Oh um…Puck said it—well agreed with the theory. Wait—but it meant yes this time right?"

"Ow!" Puck rubbed the back of his head as the pencil landed its wood clanking back and forth then back and forth against the linoleum tiled floor.

Santana snickered beside the diva Brittany giggled. Nothing not even a grunt came from the blonde behind her. After all this conversation was never about the 'textbook theories of how history's started' as Quinn would say to Rachel.

"Finn…I'm sorry, but I haven't the slightest idea of what you are asking about."

"What—wait I thought…oh—uh." The giant football player cleared his throat whatever confidence he had gone. "I was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie, you know grab some dinner…go out on a date."

"Oh—oh! I um…Finn I don't…" Rachel watched the hurt continuing to etch across his face. She couldn't do this to him. It wasn't everyday she was asked out on dates. "Finn—um…I…yes—yes Finn. I will go out with you on a date this Saturday night."

None witnessed as Quinn rose from her seat, shimming behind Santana large history textbook in hand. Each too focused on the exchange between the diva and quarterback. None saw her drop the book point down atop Puck's foot. They did hear him yelp with surprise.

All eyes on the Head-Cheerio watching—waiting on the edge of their seats anticipating, and what Rachel and her pears got… Quinn smiled a very loose smile her hand taking hold of the Jewish teen's head shaking it left and right gripping his mohawk. "Oh, Puck…I'm sorry let me check that for you." She bent down no longer in view of her classmates. Aside from two cheerleaders, a diva, and a football player, well, he at least helped block the blonde from prying eyes. Finger tips traced textbook binding. She looked at her old friend then pressed the book into his foot.

Brittany and Santana winced able to hear each bone of the foot break. Thirty minutes until the next period bell gave Puck's foot just enough to time to mend, allowing him to limp until the afternoon when every break would be healed.

"Quinn—Quinn! Is that at all necessary," questioned Rachel in a harsh whisper and disapproving tone.

Quinn ignored her. She took hold of the lettermen jacket and yanked. Puck missed the desk-table edge thankfully. Rachel watched the rest of her 'family' fidget uneasily the only ones able to hear the threats whispered to the teenage boy.

The Head-Cheerio rose from her crouch ignoring Rachel as she sat back in her seat. Pen in hand she began to 'listen' to the lesson on a time she had first-hand knowledge of.

Maybe she shouldn't have agreed to that date with Finn. It now very clear who gave the boy the push to ask her. Rachel would never forgive herself if this caused a rift between the head-Cheerio and Football receiver.

_**I hope you enjoyed, please review and let me know what you think.**_


	4. Chapter 3

_A/N: For the most part I like to think of the show's events as cannon. Some will be omitted (i.e. Quinn's pregnancy can't really happen now), and some will be moved around to suit the structure of this plot. (i.e. Puck joining Glee earlier, and a few other moments that will be visited in this chapter.)_

_This chapter contains sexual themes between Quinn and a random female._

_READ, REVIEW and ENJOY! I live on constructive criticism, it makes me want to do better and cater even more towards my readers. _

**Title: Snowfall**

**Rating: **M – language, strong sexual themes, drug and alcohol use, gore, and "character death"

**Word Count: **4,483

**Pairings (in no order): **Faberry, Brittana, Tike, Klaine, Finchel (very brief)

**Friendships: **Quick, Puckleberry, Pezberry, more

**Chapter Focus:** Rachel and Quinn

**Setting the Scene:** It's Friday night. Rachel's out with Finn on their date till someone decides to crash in and have little fun.

**Chapter 3:**

The date Rachel had in mind was nowhere near what the quarterback ended up developing. Bowling would have never been her first choice. Well it would have never been a choice at all for her when it came to deciding on a venue for a date let alone their first. However, she would give the boy points for thinking outside of dinner and a movie. Not many points, but still points.

Finn held her hips with one hand his other trying to direct Rachel in the proper form. "Okay, and now you release the ball." He swung back his arm pulling her arm with his jolting her small frame back. They finished the follow through. Rachel with what she hoped was not a dislocated shoulder. The ball dropped skidding to the left landing in the gutter.

"Oh…I'm not good at this at all Finn—I'm sorry…I'll just sit and watch you for a bit, how about that?"

Rachel removed herself from his clammy grasp. This was his third attempt and fail at teaching—flirting—her how to properly release and roll the ball.

"And, he moves in for a flirt and is out with an epic fail, Finn man, always such a way with the ladies." Puck grinned giving the giant bewildered teen a fist bump.

"What are you doing here," asked Rachel through gritted teeth. She watched Puck sauntered over to the empty lane sitting at the computer he started to enter in names.

Rachel and Finn watched the Television screen next to theirs begin to fill with names: PUC, TIN, BIT, MER, MIK, SAN, QUI. Finn grinned his dopey grin. "No way, how'd you rope Mike into hanging out everyone playing's from Glee."

Puck shrugged, "Bored, wanted to hang. Told him we were going to have some fun bowling, he shrugged and decided to tag along with the rest." He grinned at Rachel, confirming her suspicions. He eyed the pizza. "Man…" The vampire drooled; he always had a love for mortal food, even if it wasn't necessary. "Yo, Artie, wheel that pizza over here a-sap. I'm starved!" Rachel watched Artie roll along the carpeted floor pizza in his lap. He was closely followed by Kurt and Mercedes she could hear Kurt.

"I told you, I don't bowl. I refuse to wear the shoes someone else has had around their foot. Who knows what's in those shoes."

"Oh come on, you wear, socks its fun."

The tall-lean boy huffed sitting at the table. "I'll help keep score."

"Yeah, yeah whatev—hey Rachel, Finn, No one said you were joining us."

Rachel glared at Puck once again. "Actually Mercedes, Finn and I are on a date." She never saw Finn's nod of conformation and proud smile. "When did you all decide too…"

"Oh, when Artie and I stopped by Santana's house, you know to start the trio-singing assignment. Well Quinn and Brittany were over and suggested we pick up Kurt and Puck and make a thing since Mr. Shue wants us to bond and everything," exclaimed Mercedes. She sat at the table as well next to Kurt eyeing the pizza Artie set down and Puck began to cut.

"Mike was sort of hanging with Puck, when we stopped by so he decided to tag along," continued Artie. "Take my spot since I can't really…you know—and Kurt refused to play."

"Oh well, that's nice." Rachel nodded accepting his answer. "Wait, why's Tina here?"

"Brittany was feeling left out, so we called Tina, she said you were busy, but since the three of you are a trio for the assignment she wanted to get to know Tina."

Rachel eyed the group of teenagers at the main area each grabbing a pair of shoes, some even had two pairs. Mike stood with Quinn, Brittany, Santana, and Tina animatedly talking about what she didn't know, but Quinn seemed genuinely interested. She ignored the ping her he chest as she continued to watch the two.

"Damn would you look at that, it's the Hobbit and the Jolly Green Giant," Santana smiled. She set the extra pair of shoes on a stool Brittany's focus on the racks of balls lined directly behind the growing group of teens she chose two balls one marbled in different shades of purple while the other in different shades of red. "Did we interrupt something?"

The petite diva growled. "Finn, if you will excuse me. I need to use the ladies room. I'll be back in a moment." She looked to the boy her neck craning back to make eye contact.

"Yeah, sure Rach I'll just hang here till you get back." Finn turned back to Puck eyeing their choice of pizza then back at his own.

…

She flapped her hands at the sink excess water landing in the porcine basin. Rachel pulled at the fabric towel dispenser, whipping her hands carefully, very carefully. _Of course it would have the most unsanitary method of cleaning yourself…in the restroom…_ The door swung open in walked Quinn, Brittany, and Santana.

"What now…Tuesday wasn't enough? You're going to be stalking my on my dates now.

xxx

Tuesday afternoon turned a not so eventful day into what Rachel assessed hell must be like. Not only had she been forced to remain silent from the moment she entered the choir room by Mr. Shuester because she needed to allow others to speak during their short amount of time during their afternoon meetings.

"Rachel, as much as I appreciate your suggestions and comments I think it best you let someone else contribute today. Like maybe Kurt or Mercedes. Oh I know, how about you Tina do you have any suggestions for today's assignment meeting?"

Rachel was appalled he could have at least waited till she began her comments or suggestions. You know a teacher's courtesy towards his students. No, the hell started the moment they walked into room. Each wore their hair up in a identical the cheerio's high pony wearing their matching cheerleading uniforms. Rachel looked to Puck, he shrugged.

"Oh, hi—um—hello girls…can I help you with anything? I thought you knew my Spanish tutorials were held in the morning before school," blabbered Mr. Shuester.

Quinn stopped in the middle of the room standing before the bleachered chairs. Brittany and Santana stopped on either side of her. They gave an uneasy smirk in the direction of the room's occupants. Brittany and Santana placed a hand on either side of Quinn.

"We're here to try out Mr. Shue. We put the music in the box before the meeting started so all you have to do is press play." Quinn glanced at Rachel before pulling her attention to Finn.

"Alright girls show us what you got," He pressed play.

The music started Quinn began to sing as Brittany and Santana provided the perfect backup and simple dance routine. Their voices landing on each note with perfect pitch they were flawless ending with everyone clapping a few, being Puck, standing and whooping for an encore performance.

After a 'unanimous decision' meaning most of the groups wished against it, only to have Mr. Shuester ignore everyone. Quinn, Brittany, and Santana were welcomed into Glee club followed the genius and not to forget 'original' idea of trio-singing group performances for next week. Leaving Santana to be pared off with Mercedes and Artie, Quinn with Puck and Kurt, and Rachel with Brittany and Tina, leaving Finn to do a duet with Mr. Shuester.

xxx

"Oh come on, you love it that we joined your little club. You get to see us even more every day." Santana smiled attempting to grab Rachel's arm. She pulled it away. "Rach…"

"No, no Santana you're right. I would have been overjoyed if you joined Glee, and I mean if you joined Glee because you wanted too." She watched Quinn silently assessing the head-cheerio taking in just how far she could push. "Not because you have some unhealthy hidden agenda to make my life miserable, just so you can apologize to me later that night or the next."

"I joined because I wanted too…" Brittany looked to the lanolin floor.

Rachel paused. She looked to the blonde dancer. "I know Brittany," Rachel returned reassuringly eyeing Quinn and Santana. "I know you joined because you wanted too." She stepped to the side. "If you'll excuse me I have a date to get back too, and you being here isn't going to stop it." She eyed Quinn daring her to respond like a defiant teenager.

Rachel left.

"For the record I wouldn't have apologized to you…right away…it would have been at least a week till I gave in," Santana yelled before the door shut completely.

"I told you this was a bad idea," whispered Brittany as the bathroom door shut leaving the 'unholy trinity' alone.

…

Rachel storms towards the group, pausing to take in the sight of Finn moving her purse over to a free seat at the table. "Finn, what are you…"

"Oh—um—yeah, you don't mind." He rubbed the back of his head. "I thought it would be fun, you know since their here already, and everything. It's not a problem is it?" He pulled a slice of the new pizza taking a bight while both Mike and Puck eyed the forgotten pepperoni.

Rachel huffed. "This is all her—their fault. They don't even like bowling…. they hated back in the 60s they hate it even more now," she rambled under her breath taking a seat next to Tina. "Hi."

"H—Hey, Rachel," Tina smiled.

Rachel stared at this new pizza still unable to eat, the conversations of Artie, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Mike, and Puck. Tina slid her salad over, and offered one of the boys' forgotten forks to Rachel.

"Alright losers, we're going to head out. You guys are boring us to death. So we are going to go have ourselves some fun." Santana smiled eying Rachel carefully. "Check it, Lady Lips you can take your pick with me, Britt, or Q's shoes."

Kurt gasped

Brittany smiled, everyone aside from Rachel and Puck ignoring her ditz of a leap over. She held Rachel's shoulders lovingly. "Puck'll take you and Tina back to the house." Puck waved a hand in conformation as he stuffed another slice into his mouth.

She chewed quick gulping down her mouth full of lettuce and carrot shavings. "What?"

"Oh, Tina's staying the night. You know slumber party! That way we can work on our song tomorrow, and stuff. I'll see you later tonight, promise!" She bound back to Santana and Quinn linking her arms into an arm of both Quinn and Santana.

Quinn remained silent, her eyes never leaving Puck avoiding Rachel altogether. "Let's go before I change my mind." She pulled Brittany creating a chain with Santana dragging them both from the bowling alley arcade.

"Sweet, we can totally join their game now Rachel. It'll be fun," exclaimed Finn.

Rachel grinned her best fake grin fulling everyone but Tina.

…

Music bumps the walls, repetitive sound after repetitive sound. Quinn rests her back against the plastic-leather booth seats. She twirled the olive pierced toothpick in the vodka of her martini glass.

"We've been here barely an hour and you're on, what, your fifth shot," spoke Quinn interrupting whatever it was Brittany and Santana had begun. She continued to fiddle with the tooth pick.

"Oh please this crap. I'm Mexican, Quinn, Mexican," Santana smirked her response poking her finger into Quinn's shoulder. "If I get drunk off this crap not only am I a disgrace to my people, but I'm just as awful as those lushes we cheer with everyday. Tequila runs through my veins. Anyway, you're one to talk I don't see you getting sloshed off your ass with all that wannabe Russian vodka you down like water all the time."

The blonde groaned.

Brittany released her bottom into a pout she sipped her Tom Collins. "What about me San? What's running through my viens?"

"Oh your moonshine, babe, pure through and through, one-hundred percent, impossible for just anyone to get right," answered Santana long winded as she kissed Brittany between each word.

She groaned again placing the vodka drenched olive between her teeth pulling it from its pick. She swallowed

"All right, fine you want to get down to business we can get down to business…time to discuss little-bit."

"Drop it Santana, drop it now."

Santana downed her sixth shot slid the glass to the rest of the bunch. "No, we have to talk about this Quinn. She may not see it because her blockers are up and she's diluted herself just as much as you and those morons in Glee Club choose to be oblivious until it benefits their gossip needs. Don't even get me started on the doorknob, but I know Puck see's it too. He just seems to have some weird moral conscious about protecting you two."

Brittany took hold of Quinn's arm lacing their fingers before Quinn could argue back. "We love you, we want you happy, but not if you're going to keep beating yourself up every day." She lifted Quinn's hand resting her forehead against their intertwined fingers. The blondes held this bond an untouchable link between each other. Santana stopped trying to understand because she realized the need to understand was a part of the jealousy that festers during Quinn's return. Brittany explained it was the same bond she held with Santana only she and Quinn had no sexual want or romantic love for one another as they did.

Without Quinn, Brittany would not exist. Without Quinn, Brittany would be a statistic found in the Great Depression of dust pneumonia. For that Santana loved Quinn, and always would. She even loved Quinn for ignoring her protests about Rachel, Rachel livened their undead hearts.

"It's weird Q, like late night creeper movie weird," added Santana.

Brittany took Santana's free hand she looked from one to the other. "What, San's trying to say is we understand."

"Hold up, hold up, B I wasn't saying any of that. It's fucked up. She's like her kid or something…illegal"

Quinn groaned almost brought to tears at the comment. She suffered day after day since her arrival to Lima, seeing Rachel after a year of distance brought feelings that turned her stomach and made her uneasy. The image of an infant with chubby cheek and large eyes would appear at every thought. She gripped her hair and yanked. "You don't think I know that, it kills me I feel like this…If I didn't think leaving either of you behind would be a bad idea, or the thought of what Rachel might do if she found out why I—I would end it…tomorrow…I'd walk out in the middle of that damn football field at noon…"

"Stop it! Stop it right now," growled out Brittany under her breathe in a rare moment of aggression. "What San's saying isn't true and you know it. We just helped give Rachel a safe place to grow, she's family but no more than Puck is also our family," continued Brittany gazing at Santana. "You don't remember? Oh come on you were with me when we did it."

Santana watched the blonde, the love of her life, with a smile listening intently to every word.

"You remember, it was when we moved to Chicago. So Quinn could take that job at that firm. Come on, you came up with the whole back story San. Quinn would've lost her job claiming to be a single Mom." Santana continued to watch the tall dancer, the memories beginning to un-fog. "And, we wanted Rachel to start that daycare. Oh come on, Quinn forged her birth certificate so I could claimer her as mine. Remember, 'she's my dead-beat brother's spawn.'"

"Right…I forgot about that, we weren't in Chicago very long." Santana paused. "Wait, then who's on her papers now?"

"No one, I burned the certificate used in Chicago. She's Rachel Berry, adoptive daughter to Hiram and Leroy Berry. I might have asked Puck to impersonate Hiram back when we were getting her into kindergarten. You know, to avoid the hassle of explaining a two death certificates."

"Right, wait, why the hell didn't you tell me," her voice beginning to rise.

Brittany squeezed the Latina's hand she still held, now resting in her lap. "Does it really matter babe?"

She puffed the hairs which latched to her eye lashes. "No, I suppose not. Little-bit or no little-bit, you need to at least have a bit of fun while we're here, you know, have a snack. Catch yourself a quick meal. No use letting all these great bodies go to waste, right?"

"Your serious, just like that no threats to my life for not divulging important information over to you."

Santana shrugged. "I'm hungry and in a good mood. We'll deal with the important info divulging laterz." She began to scope out the dance floor. "Right now we need to get you a nice piece for some action."

"Totally," agreed Brittany. "What about him?" She motioned towards the college student with spiked hair and stripped button-down shirt. "Oh, oh no her. You should totally, get a snack with her." Brittany placed the glass still filled with her drink to her lips pointing in the direction of a brunette no older than twenty dancing within a group of girls. The young woman swayed to the beat as she swung her head back and forth catching Brittany's stare.

"Really Britt, I don't think Quinn swings that way," spoke Santana as she pulled the martini glass full of vodka by its base in her direction. Quinn hadn't touched her dink, leaving it up for grabs on the table.

"Sure, Quinn doesn't discriminate, right Quinn." Brittany motioned with her head in the direction of the eldest vampire at the table. She gave the girl thumbs up.

"Right."

Santana grinned her eyes sparkled as an impish smile grew across her face. "Come on, Britt let's leave Q to her thoughts seeing as she won't have the guts to tap that even if the girl's totally into Quinn." Brittany vigorously nodded rising from the booth with Santana exiting behind the Latina. They lifted their clasped hands swaying their hips swallow up by the dancing crowd as they made their way to the middle towards the college boy Brittany pointed out earlier.

Quinn huffed followed after Brittany and Santana, dejected, to the dance floor however turning in the direction of the brunette pointed out by Brittany. She did this to subdue Santana. At least that would be what she would tell herself later. A one-night-stand in a dance club was beneath her. She would be rounding to her hundredth birthday soon. Picking up her prey in nightclubs was unnecessary. She was better than this, and yet she craved for the contact. The contact her body wished for with a teen girl she should never think of in that manner.

"What's your name," asked the brunette, as Quinn sauntered from the booth over, with a yell music drawing out all possibility of normal conversation. She had no idea Quinn could hear just fine.

"Lucy," answered Quinn. She remembered the years when it had been Quinn, the name she used, to conceal who she claimed to be. Was she really no different than a poor victim of multiple personality disorder? She would always wonder if this forced mortality would bring on such a disease as time continued on. "How about you?"

"Cassie," she answered. She turned back to Quinn as blonde and brunette began to grind against one another to heave remixed beats of Rob Zombie.

"Are you from around here, Cleveland," asked Quinn inches from the brunette's ear her hands wrapping around Cassie to pull her closer.

"No, well my cousin's from here." The brunette so little and so much like Rachel answered motioning to the woman dancing with a man no larger than Finn Hudson a few feet away. "I'm just visiting I'm a sophomore at North Western, you?"

"Same, not from around here. I'm just out with my friends to night. Unwind, you know. They seem to think I need a distraction to get my mind off some, 'ridiculous feelings'."

Quinn surveyed the dance floor. Brittany and Santana disappeared from their spot on the floor. Sitting back at their earlier booth between the two was the now inebriated male college student enjoying himself as Brittany ran her hand along his shoulders laughing, smiling her unique smile, as Santana started kiss his neck close to the jugular. Quinn smiled, her mind wondering to the few times she and Brittany had done the same thing when in desperate need of food during the depression. That poor man had no idea what those two were about to do to him.

"What sort of distraction," asked Cassie her head laying back against chest as their hips swayed together.

She smiled, all protests drifting from her mind. "I can think of a few distractions…if you're interested."

…

A door flung open. Two young women toppled in mouths attached for dear life. Her focus on Cassie she blindly searched the bathroom door, she locked it. Now was not the time for interruptions, she was far too gone to care. Lips parted. "Are you sure," she asked for the sake of her conscious. No doubt ready to ransack her mind once she laid eyes on Rachel within the next few days.

"Yes."

She nodded her left hand slide under the brunette's chiffon top gliding along slick skin cupping Cassie's bare right breast the college student rewarded Quinn with a gasp of pleasure cold fingers creating a trail of goose-pimpled skin, and hardening the nipple. The blonde hair falling from the loose tie framing her face, gave the breast a soft bounce and pitch as she trailed lips along the tan neck tracing her nose lightly atop the helix of Cassie's ear.

Quinn began to trace the finger pads of her right hand along her 'meal's' waist creating circles along her toned belly running along until cupping the left breast and treating it with the same affection as she had the right her left hand sliding along the slick skin of Cassie's torso. Quinn felt the young woman's taut rear press eagerly into her opened pelvis with unspoken approval. Quinn flicked open the jean button pulling the zipper free left hand resting atop the belly again. She met the brown eyes with her own through their reflections on the mirror above the sink. Quinn stopped the soft-supple tortured to the breast removing her hand outlining Cassie's side, who held tight to either side of the sink.

Index and pointer fingers continued the outline along her neck tracing to the point of her jaw slowly turning Cassie's view from the mirror to whatever lined the back walls. Quinn halted her reflection placing judgment on the actions about to take place. Arousal took hold of the vampire's senses. Quinn lowered her lips back to the neck breathing in the scent of Chanel, no doubt 'barrowed' from her aunt's vanity, the tip of her nose resting at crook of the neck.

She dipped her hand into the confines of Cassie's underwear Quinn's fingers trailed along moist-velvet inner walls her thumb creating circles and making contact with the brunette's slowly exposing clit.

"Oh—God…," breathed Cassie not caring Quinn's hand continued to force her view to the back walls.

Ivory fangs engorged her canines hardening each to a long-sharp point, her pupils dilated as she pressed each pointed-tip at her 'meal's' neck. Her right hand gripped between Cassie's chin and neck. Quinn pierced the slick tight skin. A copper-iron stench overflowed the blonde's senses eyes rolling from behind shut lids. She bucked hard into the rear of the young woman her index and pointer fingers began a harsher movement as they continued to penetrate Cassie's sex. Groans of pain and pleasure echoed against the walls of the woman's restroom.

True euphoria passed the 'teenager's' lips as the deep-red sticky-thick liquid rolled down her throat soaking in nourishing her body, honing her senses and heightening her resolve. Feeling the wonderful effects of alcohol tainted human blood.

The brunette's body buckled her knees slopping forward moments form death. Quinn released her hand from between Cassie's legs lowering her limp body pulling her to the cleanest wall. Her head flopped, chin against neck, simulating a hung-over college sophomore. Quinn absently glanced around the small three stall women's bathroom. She brought her purse in, they both had. Where the hell were they tossed?

"How in the…not important," Quinn spoke to no one.

She set the black clutch atop the sink's edge and flicked open the clasp before scavenging the contents for the tube of lipstick. She blinked her mind coherent enough to see the change in features and complexion. Hazel eyes no longer held the glazed-over sleep-deprived daze of a teenager with too many commitments. Bright specks of bronze blended with moss-green irises looked back at the Head-Cheerio. She looked awake for the first time in months, perhaps even a year. Using Puck as her blood source in Lima, while under the guise of the youngest daughter to newly divorced single mother. Judy agreed to help with the cover as long as Quinn helped her and her daughter escape. The 'older woman' convinced not even a restraining order would keep her ex-husband away. Quinn agreed, without question to Judy's conditions. Before Rachel, Quinn's watchful eye fell on the family-line of a young man thrown from his sanity after witnessing his older sister's death, and Judy's great-great-grandfather.

Quinn waved a hand across the faucet's sensor drenching her hand with water washing away Cassie's arousal she yanked a paper towel from the dispenser.

The blonde pulled free the stick of wax from its tube. A different color never switched from the night of Puck's party, nevertheless it would do, the dance floor dark enough to conceal the new color of champagne-pearl. Quinn dabbed together the corners of her mouth with her pinkies any excess blood gone. She applied the stick to plump full lips before capping and returning it to the purse. One last look at her reflection she admired the rose-olive-tan tint to her still pale skin tone.

Her phone blinked of unread text messages; she could not leave just yet.

Quinn crouched at the twenty-year-old's eye level. She double checked her 'meal's' pulse along with the sealed bite mark. Then pulled two small prepackaged travel-sized Advil from the inside pocket of her clutch, and placed them in her hands. Just in case the young woman woke with a migraine. Santana may think it pointless, but Quinn found the extra effort often played in their favor when it came to their concealment.

She flattened the folds in her silk top before exiting the bathroom not hearing the click of heals or slide of shoes outside the bathroom door.

Brittany and Santana were right, she really needed that release.

_**I hope you enjoyed, please review and let me know what you think.**_


End file.
